


drown every sense you own

by starfallens



Category: Original Work
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-12 11:03:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18445241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfallens/pseuds/starfallens
Summary: The first time, he doesn’t know her. Or he tells himself that he doesn’t, at least, tells himself that there’s nothing of Izzy in Nightshade except for coincidences.Or: Gilbert Rowan AKA Captain Ray, respected member of the Hero Guard, keeps getting way too up close and personal with the villain who may or may not be his sister.





	drown every sense you own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arbitrarily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arbitrarily/gifts).



The first time, he doesn’t know her. Or— or he tells himself that he doesn’t, at least, tells himself that there’s nothing of Izzy in Nightshade except for coincidences.

Maybe her voice sounds similar, but he’s never heard Izzy sound so loud, so forward, so aggressive, and he can’t _really_ reconcile the two. Maybe her body type is similar, but lots of women have that kind of body, right? Maybe her hair is the same color, but… well, black hair is black hair, right? Izzy’s hair is always pulled back into a perfect braid, too, not loose and wild and wavy like Nightshade’s.

Still, when Nightshade’s hand goes toward the mask, slow enough to let him react, Gil catches her arm and pins it to the wall instead. She laughs, tilts her hips to grind against him while he’s not expecting it and laughs again when he lets go of her arm to push her back against the wall harder.

“Funny,” she says. “Thought you’d wanna know who’s under the mask so you can stop me, right? Isn’t that what all the big heroes wanna do?”

“This isn’t— this is separate.”

It sounds weak even to his ears, when they’re in the in the rubble of their latest fight and he’s alone here because he’d told the others to handle cleanup while he found Nightshade to subdue her. If they’d known ‘subdue’ meant this - and the argument it hadn’t meant this when he’d said it sounds even weaker, even just inside his own head - then they would have sent someone else.

Nightshade cocks her head like she’s listening to something, and grins, and Gil starts to make an internal note to tell the others she might be telepathic before she interrupts.

“Oh no, Cap. Can’t have it both ways. If it’s separate, they don’t get to know that.” She reaches up and taps one fingertip against his forehead, and it makes him flinch back like it was an actual hit.

“Unless you want your big fancy teammates to know _all_ about what’s going on up here right now? Or, more importantly,” as her hand slides down until she’s gripping his cock through the suit, making him jerk and hiss through his teeth, “What’s going on down _here_ right now?”

“I— okay.” It feels like a betrayal. He knows the rest of the team would take it as one.

Nightshade just laughs at his gloomy thoughts, pressing in close against him until she can breathe into his mouth, “C’mon, Cap, cut the doom and gloom if you really wanna get a piece of this.”

It should be a way out, should be the push he needs to stop this, and to actually stop her like he’d told the team he was going to.

But it’s not. He lets her kiss him and bite at his tongue, and digs his fingers into her hips hard enough to leave bruises, and knows that he’ll tell the team that they fought and he lost her. Knows that it’ll be believable once they’re done with each other, because every time he grips at her or pushes her against the wall she bites him or scratches him or slams back against him until it feels more like a fight than any other sex he’s ever had before, and all the better for it.

It keeps happening after that, though not usually in the aftermath of things. Sometimes he finds her when the both of them are just roaming around at night. A few times he even catches her in the act of setting something up that he doesn’t understand, but that he’s able to break - along with any furniture in the vicinity, and sometimes windows, and on one notable occasion his own finger - in the process of fucking her.

He does wonder, sometimes, whether those were actual plans or just a setup to make him feel better about it all. To keep him coming back, because he can tell himself that sometimes he’s actually doing good with it even if it still feels like he might be betraying everything that Captain Ray is supposed to be.

Nightshade only laughs when that line of thought starts up again in her presence.

“Maybe you are,” she tells him, as nonchalant as if she were discussing the weather, “But you’re the one who insisted this was separate, right? I’m not screwing Captain Ray, I’m screwing… whoever’s under that mask.”

The pause makes him hesitate himself. Makes him realize that if she really can read minds, maybe she knows who he is. He doesn’t know how far her ability goes, but it’s not exactly impossible that he might have thought fleetingly about enough personal details for her to have pieced together his identity. And she hasn’t used any of it so far, but she’s a _villain_ , and Gil can take care of himself but Izzy—

Her hand comes up to cup his cheek, gentle for once, and he has to push away the feeling of another thing that seems too close to Izzy herself. Another thing that feels like it should be a reason to stop this even if he _weren’t_ a hero, rather than— rather than a reason to keep doing it.

Nightshade’s lips twitch at that, but a moment later she just shakes her head.

“If I know who’s under the mask, it doesn’t mean anything. Like I said, you insisted it’s separate. If I’m not screwing Captain Ray, you’re not screwing Nightshade. If you’re not telling your band of heroes that I can read minds, I’m not using whatever I read out of yours.”

It shouldn’t be enough. He should stop there, and tell the team everything, and accept whatever judgement they have.

He doesn’t, though, and he can’t even pretend to himself that it’s for any reason other than that he doesn’t want this to stop.

It’s Izzy who makes it unavoidable in the end. He comes into the kitchen one morning to find her leaning up against the counter while she looks through her phone, in a skirt that leaves most of her thighs on show.

Which wouldn’t have meant anything more than some potential awkward thoughts, six months ago. Six months ago, Gil hadn’t gotten close enough to Nightshade to rip the tights of her costume down, hadn’t seen the tattoo of a nightshade plant on the front of her right thigh. Six months ago - hell, six minutes ago - Gil would have insisted that Izzy wasn’t the kind of person who’d ever get a tattoo.

Let alone one that’s the exact double of Nightshade’s, right down to the placement.

He wants to find another way that it could be a coincidence, just like he’s tried to do with everything else. Except that Nightshade’s tattoo isn’t common knowledge, because her costume covers it. Except that Izzy especially has no reason to know exactly what it’s like, let alone a reason to get the same one even if she did. Except that he’s been much too up close and personal with Nightshade to deny that it’s the exact same tattoo.

Except that Izzy has put down her phone to just stare across the kitchen at him, and she doesn’t say a word as he moves across the kitchen as if in a daze.

“You—” It sticks in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry, and he has to take a moment before he can try again. “You knew. This whole time, you knew I was—”

He doesn’t say _your brother_. But she doesn’t need him to say it, does she?

Izzy laughs, and it sounds nothing like Izzy and everything like Nightshade - and Gil hates, or at least wants to hate, that it seems to fit her so much better.

“So did you,” she says, interrupting his thoughts. “You knew, too.”

“I didn’t—”

“I can _read your mind_ ,” she snaps at him. “You kept telling yourself that everything she had in common with me had to be a coincidence, but you _knew_ , really.”

He opens his mouth to argue again, and the next thing he knows he’s facing down all the knives from their knife block, hovering around Izzy like a warning. His mouth snaps shut, and he just watches her warily - he knows how fast she can fire things from fighting Nightshade, and he’d rather not try to test out dodging or stopping all of them without destroying their kitchen.

Izzy nods, apparently satisfied.

“You knew,” she carries on. “And even before that. Yours was the first mind I could read, you know? And it’s not like I started being Nightshade as soon as I knew I could read minds. I knew you wanted me. I knew you thought about it all the time. But you were so focused on being some perfect hero man, so you’d never let it happen, and it made me so _mad_.”

“So, what, this was all some… scheme to seduce me? To prove I’m not a good hero, or something?”

It’s supposed to be biting, but Izzy only shrugs. “A little, at first,” she admits like it’s nothing. “I wanted you to look at me and be _honest_ about it, and I was angry, and I wanted to have the _proof_ that you’re not the perfect hero you like to think you are, even if it was only for me.”

She pushes away from the counter and steps toward him, the knives floating after her. Gil finds himself stepping back, and Izzy smiles - sweet, like the sister he thought he knew, except for the tattoo on her thigh and the threat of the knives floating alongside - and keeps going, slowly, edging him toward the wall as she carries on speaking.

“And then it turned out that this city needs Nightshade and all the rest of us just as much as it needs you guys. More, maybe. Half the people you protect need _someone_ to make them afraid, and you and the rest of the Hero Guard make them too brave. They think they’re invulnerable, because apparently _real heroes_ don’t ask questions unless someone’s wearing spandex in the wrong color. So it stopped being just about you. But by then we were already fucking, so…”

She shrugs again and trails off, and comes to a stop just an inch away from Gil after his back hits the wall.

“And this?” he manages once the silence has stretched out long enough to be uncomfortable, eyes fixed on the knives spinning lazily in midair behind her. He could take her, probably, or at least get clear of her. But he knows she knows he’s thinking it, and even if she’s Nightshade she’s also his sister and he doesn’t want to hurt her, and— and…

“This is me being sick of you _still_ not being honest. You can’t even be honest inside your own head - do you know how _exhausting_ it is to listen to you? You wanted me even though you knew, really, that I was your sister. You wanted me before I was Nightshade. You might be able to take me, but you’re pretty sure this might end up being some kind of foreplay and that’s ranking higher than your hero duties, like it always does.”

Gil twitches, and doesn’t try to deny it out loud. It’s— of course it’s not actually _true_ , but—

One of the knives shoots forward to press up against his throat, not drawing blood but definitely threatening it, and he swallows hard.

Okay. No thoughts like that. He can do that. Izzy smiles up at him when he thinks that, that sweet smile that’s definitely ruined by the knife to his throat.

“Good,” she says, reaching out to actually take the knife in hand and holding it there for a moment before she pulls it away and drops it. She doesn’t let it fall, though, just catches it telekinetically and sets it back to spinning behind her as she presses her hand to his throat instead.

“I think you’re just the same as them, y’know.” Her voice is quiet, almost hypnotic, even as she shifts toward the rougher tone that Nightshade uses.

All Gil can manage in response is a quiet, “...oh?”

“Yeah. You need someone to scare _you_ honest, too. Make you remember that you’re not invulnerable, Cap.”

 _And that’s you?_ Gil thinks, and she smiles and presses her hand forward. Keeps going until he can’t breathe, and holds it until his head spins, and just as he thinks it’s about to be too much she pulls her hand back and lets him gasp for breath.

“Who else is gonna know if it’s working? You lie to yourself just as much as to everyone else.”

Nightshade’s hand presses in again, and Gil jerks when he feels her other hand pushing down his pants and boxers enough to free his cock. She starts to combine the two feelings. To press down and stop him from taking a breath and only let up when his vision starts to blur at the edges. To slide her fingers over his cock as she does, torturously slow, and pull that hand away completely every time that she lets him breathe. To make it so that every time he can breathe again he wants her to stop him again, because it’s the only way she’ll touch him.

He knows that he could stop her. She’s not actually _stronger_ than him, and he could push her away from him even with his head swimming from the hand on his throat and the hand working on his cock. Even like this he could probably flip them to have her be the one pressed against the wall, and get his cock inside her and bite at her throat until she screamed.

She might even let him if he tried, he thinks, but he doesn’t— he doesn’t want to. Nightshade presses her nails against the skin of his cock, like a warning, and Gil tries to force his jumbled thoughts into some kind of order.

Because, no, it’s not that he doesn’t want that. He _does_ want that, wants to turn and overpower her and fuck her as though he doesn’t care whether she wants it, because he knows that that’s exactly how she does want it. Wants to have her - even though she’s a villain, even though she’s his sister - squirming on his cock and clawing at his back and begging for him. Wants it _because_ she’s a villain and his sister.

It’s just that, more than that, he wants this. Wants her hand on his throat, wants her reading the thoughts out of his head, wants her pushing him further than anyone else could because she knows exactly when to stop.

Nightshade laughs, suddenly, and lets up the pressure to give him a breath.

“See? You _can_ be honest with yourself if you try, Cap.”

She sounds as breathless as if she’d been the one with a hand on her throat, and she shoves him downwards - not hard when he feels as though his legs are barely holding him up at this point - until he’s sat on the floor, back against the wall.

“Stupid, though,” she goes on, and as she speaks she’s lining herself up to slide down onto his cock, and the realization that she hadn’t been wearing anything under her skirt is enough to have Gil shuddering and close to the edge.

“There’s no reason you can’t have _both_ ,” Nightshade says, reaching up to wrap the fingers of both hands around his throat. “As long as you last more than thirty seconds, anyway.”

He growls at that, reaching up to grab at her hips and fuck into her as hard as he can manage with her choking him. He’s pretty sure he’s not managing any sort of rhythm, not with how hard it is to focus every time his head starts spinning from lack of air, but Nightshade’s cunt is tight and soaked and if the way her walls are twitching around his cock are any indication, she doesn’t seem to mind that or the bruising pace at all.

 _Are_ you _going to last more than thirty seconds?_ he manages to think, and Nightshade hisses and presses down harder on his throat as he’s proved right, as she hits the edge and her cunt clamps down around his cock. It’s enough to make him see stars. More than that, it’s enough to push him over the edge himself and make him come then and there, gasping in as best as he can until she finally lets up and lets him breathe for real when he feels like he’s going to actually pass out.

Nightshade pulls herself up from his lap before he’s managed to pull himself together. When he finally can open his eyes without his head spinning he’s greeted to a view straight up his sister’s skirt to where his come is dripping out of her, and he’s pretty sure that if he hadn’t just come that that would have him hard again in an instant.

Nightshade just snorts. “Maybe in another six months, you might actually be able to be that honest out loud.”

“And then you’ll stop being a villain?” Gil asks, though he finds himself grinning up at her despite himself.

“And deny you the chance to fuck me all over the wreckage you’ve made of my brilliant plans? As if.”


End file.
